


leave it all for me

by bluelions



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, and flustered caspar, casheparweek2019, we support ashe taking initiative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelions/pseuds/bluelions
Summary: cashepar week 2019!day one: cats/first dateCaspar and Ashe are taking care of a cat each against monastery rules, but they don't tell each other. Great efforts are made to keep a secret but things get mushy.day two: tea time/childhood/classroomAshe and Caspar just want one(1) date after they finally announced they were dating. Their houses are really good at unintentionally making that not happen.day three: cooking/baking/gardeningCaspar gets sick and makes a couple of promises to Ashe.day four: any au- boba shop auAshe works at a boba shop and develops a devastating crush on the hot new regular. Turns out, he's more than just a regular.day five: after battle/reunionAshe and Caspar get into a fight after a rough battle.day six: thunder, rain/cuddlesCaspar isn't a big fan of the rain, but Ashe decides that just won't do.day seven: free dayAshe’s childhood friend makes an appearance and Caspar isn’t sure what to make of it. It’s a good thing he’s in the boxing club to punch out his feelings.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Comments: 35
Kudos: 117





	1. leave it all for me

The dining hall tonight is lively after a mock battle between all three houses, and nobody misses a chance to gush about it over a well-deserved, hot meal.

“Man, those Golden Deer guys aren’t as soft as they seem.”

“You’re just bitter Lysithea one-shotted you two minutes in.”

“Hey! I wasn’t expecting to get exploded at point-blank!”

Ashe listens amusedly as Felix and Sylvain continue to banter about the details across the table. To his left, Annette has already started on a chocolatey dessert with a determined glint in her eyes.

“How did you think it went, Ashe?” Ingrid asks from beside Sylvain, pointedly ignoring the scuffle.

“It was definitely much more difficult than our last mock battle,” Ashe admits. “But it was incredible to see how much everyone else improved! It was a bit like living a real scene from a knightly book.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Ingrid agreed with a laugh. “I must say though, you were great covering for us when things got rough. Your archery is incredible!”

“Oh, thank you!” Ashe can’t help the grin spreading across his face. He knows he’s got a long way to go, but it was comforting to know his training was showing for something.

Annette chooses to pipe up at this moment, “Ashe, didn’t you say you were going to take the sniper certification exam after this battle? I think you’re totally ready!”

“I’m n-”

“I would have to agree with Annette, your battle skills were superb today.”

Ashe whips around and Dimitri is standing there, already finished with his meal.

“Y-Your highness!” Ashe squeaks out. He’s gotten a little more comfortable with Dimitri, but hearing his praise out of nowhere still makes him a little woozy.

Dimitri just laughs at him, surely noticing the blush burning its way towards crimson.

“You were truly a great fighter on the battlefield, it’s an honor having you by our side,” Dimitri continues.

“Th-Thank you, I really hope to be even better next time around!” Ashe nods rapidly.

“I’d love to talk more about today’s events, but I’m afraid I have a bit of paperwork to catch up on. I hope-”

Dimitri stops mid-sentence and Ashe catches his eyes zeroing in on his own plate, a little fuller than should be towards the end of dinner. Ashe swallows hard attempting to lean subtly in the way of the prince’s view of his plate.

“Were you not hungry Ashe? Surely you must have worked up an appetite after the battle,” Dimitri says, a frown donning his face.”

And Ashe, being a terrible liar, stares at him dumbly as his mouth struggles to form words.

“Uh, I-I guess I’m not really, uh, hungry? Lately?” Ashe’s voice had gone up an octave, at which Dimitri raises an eyebrow.

“Not hungry lately? Is it possible you are sick? Surely that is not normal,” Dimitri worries on.

“No! No, no, I’m fine, truly. I just, uh-”

Ashe nudges Annette with his foot under the table, praying to the goddess she would get Dimitri off his case. He appreciates the worry, truly, but he can’t reveal his secret.

Annette seems to get the hint and drops her fork, hurriedly dabbing at her chocolate-stained mouth with a napkin.

“Don’t worry, your highness! Ashe just, uh,” Annette starts, “he had a big lunch.”

“A big lunch?”

_A big lunch?_ Ashe thinks in disbelief.

“Yes! A big, big, big lunch. I guess he didn’t fight that hard today or else he would’ve burned it right off!” Annette throws in a giggle so hysterical Ashe catches the way Dimitri flinches, caught off guard.

Luckily, Dimitri has enough paperwork to prevent him from pushing the subject further, and wishes Ashe’s appetite to return before leaving.

-

“Really? A big lunch?”

“Hey, it’s not like you said anything brilliant either!”

Ashe sighs and agrees.

At dinnertime, Ashe considers himself a moderate eater; he finishes his plate, no more or less. Others would definitely find it weird if he had ordered a second plate he didn’t even touch, but he hadn’t expected _Dimitri_ of all people to notice the peculiar fullness of his plate this evening.

“Well, it’s all for this little one.”

Annette and Ashe sit cross-legged on the floor in his room, looking fondly at the white cat between them. The table napkin they stole away with Ashe’s leftover dinner, grilled fish scraped off the skewers, presents a feast for the young feline. She eats with such tenacity Ashe has to pick up the crumbs flying for the floor.

The monastery is home to a number of cats that it would seem pointless to keep one - and not to mention against the rules - but Ashe had found this one crying in the greenhouse one morning. She had been trapped unknowingly overnight and mewled so desperately her voice had gone hoarse.

Ashe had cooed and snuck her some jerky from the pantry and a bowl of water, and before he knew it, she wouldn’t stop following him in the ensuing days. It was quite a spectacle to see her running all over the training grounds in an attempt to find Ashe.

Luckily, the class thought it was a funny distraction, and the professor had scooped the thing up and placed her in the care of Cyril for the rest of the training session.

“His highness is kind, but even he wouldn’t allow me to keep Blossom here. I think he’d be rather disappointed I went against a huge rule,” Ashe lamented. “I’m just not sure what I should do, she’s come to rely on me for all her meals now. I can’t let her go hungry!”

Annette hums, stroking her soft fur with a gentle finger.

“That definitely wouldn’t be good,” she commented. “Wouldn’t she go back to hunting her own food if she was outside more often?”

“I only keep her here just so she won’t go chasing after me,” he said. “She’ll only cause trouble.”

Ashe heaves a heavy sigh and leans back on his palms.

“Maybe you should just tell his highness and the professor, I’m sure they’d understand.”

“They seem like they have a lot going on. I wouldn’t want to bother them with a silly thing like this,” Ashe mumbles.

Annette seems to feel his ethical turmoil and reaches over to pat his shoulder firmly.

“Hey, don’t worry! We’ll definitely figure something out,” she reassures him with a smile. He stares across at her and as if her optimism had bled through her hand he returned the grin.

“You’re right, we can’t give up on Blossom!” Ashe proclaims. He knew in the end there would be some happy solution, but its elusion was making his days a bit more stressful. He just wanted to make sure she was okay.

“That’s the spirit!” Annette shouts and Blossom mews in response. They both laugh and stand up to head for the door.

“Well, I should get to bed now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ashe, goodnight!” Annette says.

“Thanks for saving me earlier, sleep well!”

Ashe opens the door for her and she steps outside, but something darts between her legs.

It’s Blossom, a white streak dissolving into the night.

Ashe and Annette look at each other worriedly, Ashe much more so with the way he stumbles out into the hallway.

“Wh-What? She’s never run off before!”

At least, when they both decide it pointless to be searching in the dark and Annette retired to her room, the napkin was devoid of food.

-

“Caspar, I don’t think he appreciates that.”

“No, he totally loves it.”

Linhardt watches Caspar sprawled out on the bed with a brown tabby cat between his hands, suspended above him. Caspar makes disgusting cooing noises at it and sways his body gently from side to side.

“Look, Bandit’s so into it,” Caspar says, and in response Bandit mewls.

Linhardt sighs and turns back to his book at the desk.

“You’re going to get in trouble for this eventually. The monastery doesn’t allow students to keep the cats for a reason,” Linhardt drawls.

“Oh yeah? And what reasons are those?”

“Having one cat in your dorm is arguably less satisfying than interacting with all the hundreds of cats outside. Not to mention they’re all independent for the most part. And they certainly have the capacity to make a mess of anything and everything in this room.”

“I see your point and I’m going to ignore it.”

Linhardt rolls his eyes and reluctantly shuts his book. When he turns around to face Caspar he’s turned on his side to cuddle Bandit in the crook of his neck.

“You’ve grown grossly attached to this animal, Caspar,” Linhardt states. “It’s going to be a problem.”

“Come on, Lin, you’re the one who started this in the first place anyway.”

“You were trying to fight the shopkeep.”

About two weeks ago the pair had gone into town to run errands for the class. It was supposed to be quick, but they came across an angry store owner, shouting and waving a knife around. The closer they got they realized it was a cat, hissing back in the face of the sharp weapon pointed directly at it.

Apparently, the cat has been a regular thief at the man’s bakery and he’d finally had enough.

“He was going to kill him! _You_ may stand for animal slaughter, but _I_ will not,” Caspar continued.

Caspar, ever the hero, tried to fight the man barehanded. And Linhardt, ever the savior, managed to pull Caspar out of the grapple-fest he started, scoop up the cat, and dip.

Consequently, the cat, affectionately named Bandit, had become insanely attached to Caspar. Oddly enough Bandit doesn’t like Linhardt too much.

_Ungrateful_ , Linhardt thought whenever he hissed at him.

“Have it your way, Caspar,” Linhardt said, standing from the chair, “but I will not help you should someone find out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he responded with a wave of his hand. Bandit laid out on his back, enjoying the fingers running through his belly fur and pawing mindlessly at the air. Upon Linhardt’s movement his golden eyes seemed to latch onto him.

Linhardt resisted making a face and collected his book. He made his way to the door, having spent too much time absorbing Caspar’s nonsense.

“Well, I’m going to have a pre-dinner nap. I’ll see you in a few,” Linhardt called out behind him as he stepped out.

He barely managed to get out a yawn before Caspar was shouting, “Wait!”

“Huh?”

Bandit had twisted out of Caspar’s gentle hold and lept to the ground in a graceful arc. He slipped between Linhardt’s leg and the door frame before he could register what was happening. By then, Bandit had disappeared down the hall and down the stairs.

Caspar stood up on his knees in his bed with his mouth wide open, arm outstretched.

“What the heck?! That’s the fifth time now!” Caspar bemoaned.

Linhardt would’ve felt guilty until he said that.

“This is a recurring thing?” He asked.

Caspar is scrambling off the bed and pulling his boots on when he replies, “Yeah! He usually stays long enough for me to feed him, but he’s been begging to be let out a lot lately. Otherwise he just tries to run off like that!”

He decides he’s going to get to the bottom of it and dashed out the door, leaving Linhardt behind.

“I’m going to go after him this time!” He calls out before taking the stairs down.

The sun had just begun to set, casting the monastery in a shimmering dust of gold. It’s beautiful but Caspar is on a mission, and after a quick sweep of the area he finds Bandit nowhere in sight.

He pivots on his heel to dash down the length of the dormitory but immediately crashes into another person.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, watch it!”

They both yelp and stagger backwards, clutching their foreheads. And when Caspar looks up it’s Ashe, beautiful Ashe he had run into.

His cheeks are flushed, hair lightly wind-tousled, and the light pronounces his freckles like stardust. Caspar feels his heart stop for a moment and he forgets the sting of their heavy impact.

“Oh, goddess-”

“Sorry, Caspar, I didn’t realize you were coming this way,” Ashe apologizes first. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”

Caspar manages to pull himself together, swallow his nervousness down.

“That really hurt, but I’m alright! A-Are you okay too?”

Ashe laughs in agreement and says, “I’ll be fine. I guess we both need to slow down a bit.”

Caspar melts a little. His affections for Ashe had been positively unknown by his own brain until Linhardt had to break it to him. It was a shock, really, to realize his own feelings. Apparently it’s _not_ normal to want to hold your friend’s hand during a conversation about battle tactics.

He really wishes Linhardt hadn’t told him because now he’s hyper aware of how flustered and _not himself_ he is around Ashe.

“Where were you such a rush to be?” Ashe asks.

Caspar is brought back to the situation at hand. While they both have a liking for cats, Caspar’s not too sure Ashe would approve of going against monastery rules. And Caspar has never really cared much for upholding a refined image or noble expectations, but he doesn’t like the idea that Ashe could possibly be disappointed in him.

So he lies. Terribly.

“Oh, uh, I was just uh- going to dinner! I am _so_ excited for tonight’s dinner, really can’t get enough of that pasta, that vegetable pasta. Because, vegetables. Mm-mm-mm,” Caspar rushes out, voice cracking so bad he hopes Ashe just thinks he hasn’t hit puberty yet.

Before Ashe can even get a word out, Caspar barrels on, “So, uh, what about you? Where are you headed?”

“Oh! I,” and Ashe pauses here, “was _also_ going to dinner. I’m _really_ glad someone else is _just_ as excited as I am!”

They stare at each other for a moment.

Caspar swallows and breaks eye contact first.

“Sh-Shall we then?” Caspar says.

Ashe nods rapidly.

Caspar figures if he can’t find Bandit a nice meal with Ashe wouldn’t be so bad.

-

Ashe tries to tuck the wrapped pieces of jerky into his boot as discreetly as possible and catches up to Caspar.

Blossom had run off again and this time Ashe tried to follow her. Running into Caspar was not part of the plan.

He knows Caspar’s sense of justice runs hot in his blood, and explaining his situation probably wasn’t the best of ideas. Ashe wasn’t too thrilled of the idea of Caspar giving him the rundown on why it was wrong to own a cat when nobody else could. Plus, Caspar surely thinks of Ashe as a rule follower.

Well, dinner with the other seemed like a nice way to distract him from his worries anyway.

And it was. As they both announced to each other, they indulged in vegetable pasta with gusto and caught up.

Ashe missed being able to spend time with Caspar like this. Their training had increased tenfold recently, exams were always on the horizon, and being in separate houses made it impossible to interact recently.

The dining hall may have been full and boisterous but Caspar gave his devoted attention to Ashe the entire night. Ashe missed this kind of bubble they sometimes created together.

Caspar walked Ashe back to his room when the dining hall closed for clean up.

Their arms brushed against each other as they walked in sync, still chatting, just enjoying the slight warmth they provided for each other.

“I had a really fun time catching up with you, Caspar,” Ashe says when they reach his door.

“Of course! It’s too bad our houses are always so busy lately, but dinner isn’t so hard to arrange,” Caspar agrees.

Ashe laughs. “Are you suggesting we eat together again, Caspar?”

“What- I mean, if you want to!” Caspar shifts his weight, averting his eyes. He finds it endearing.

“I would enjoy that, yeah,” Ashe says softly.

Caspar’s eyes widen and a gentle smile slowly pulls itself onto his face.

“I-I’ll see you around then?”

“I’ll see you around. Goodnight, Caspar.”

“Goodn-”

In a moment of bravery, Ashe leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Caspar’s mouth. His toes curl in his boots, eyes shut tight.

When Ashe pulls away, breathless at his own nerves, Caspar’s face is flushed a bright red. His lower lip trembles as he stares wide-eyed into Ashe’s own gaze.

It makes Ashe tremble and this time he has to be the one to pull his eyes away. He backpedals into the door he left ajar earlier that evening.

“S-Sleep well, Caspar!” He shouts and then slams the door shut.

Ashe crouches into a ball, hugging his arms around himself. He listens intently for Caspar’s movement. It took several seconds before he hears him walk away.

Ashe breathes out a long sigh that slowly morphs into a wail of despair.

“Oh, gods, why did you do that, Ashe?!” He cries, leaning forward onto his hands.

He heaves a deep breath to compose himself.

“I totally misread that, I totally screwed that up,” he mutters to himself.

He replays the moment: the warmth of his skin beneath his lips, the way Caspar’s pupils were blown wide, Caspar’s hand reaching out for him just before he closed the door.

Ashe’s face burns. His mind goes wild with what Caspar’s intentions were with that last one. He’s known for a while now that he’d developed a little crush on Caspar, after the incidents with the thieving pantry cat. But this is _ridiculous_.

Thinking of cats reminds him that Blossom still hadn’t returned despite leaving his door open when he originally went to find her.

He takes a deep breath and hauled himself off the floor.

“Fresh air, we need fresh air right now, Ashe,” he comforts himself and steps back outside to resume his search.

It’s dark out now but the cold air is refreshing on his heated skin. He remembers the jerky tucked into his boot and pulls it out. Hopefully Blossom is in the mood for a snack.

Ashe wanders towards the greenhouse but hears no crying from within. The docks are empty save for who he thinks is the professor fishing alone. He circles back and walks the length of the dormitory, towards the classrooms.

He is thoroughly distracted from earlier events by the time he makes it to the garden. The tables are typically filled with students having tea, but it’s deserted at this hour.

Ashe checks the bushes and under the tables for any sight of the silky white furball he’s come to adore. No luck.

A disappointed sigh escapes him and he takes a seat at one of the tables. His legs ache from the extra exertion after a hard day of training, and his hands went numb twenty minutes ago. He thinks he might have dropped the jerky at some point because of it. _Maybe she just leads another life_ , he thinks.

There aren’t many lights in this area save for the sconces burning in the corridor far behind him. It’s just him, the moon, and the stars.

Until he spots a lump shifting on top of one of the tables.

“Huh?”

He leans forward, squinting, to try to get a better look.

“Ashe?!”

“What?!” Ashe yelps and bangs his knee into the table’s underside.

He grits his teeth against the pain and turns around, only to be faced with Caspar who now mirrors his look of surprise.

Ashe opens his mouth to question him until a mewl sounds from behind him. They both turn to look.

Two cat heads had popped up from the shapeless mass on the table, ears flicking and rotating at all the commotion. Their eyes reflected the low light eerily, but Ashe could tell from the pale fur that at least one of them was Blossom.

“Blossom!”

“Bandit!”

Ashe and Caspar’s heads snapped in each other’s direction.

-

After several minutes of hysteric explaining and admission, Caspar had eventually taken a seat next to Ashe. They watched the pair in silence.

They were cuddled up and purring, Blossom’s head tucked snugly beneath Bandit’s chin. From afar they seemed like they were one, a cozy ball of brown and white fur.

“I think they’re in love,” Ashe says finally.

“Wh-What?” Caspar stutters.

“Well,” Ashe starts, and has the decency to look a little embarrassed, “it’s obvious now that they’ve been escaping all this time to see each other. I think they must’ve known each other before they came to stay with us, and then reunited somehow.”

Caspar hums. “Man, and here I thought my Bandit was having some sort of secret adventures on his own.”

“I-I think it’s kind of romantic,” Ashe admits, and when Caspar looks over he can just make out the color rising to Ashe’s cheeks.

“Y-You do?”

“Well, yeah, it’s a bit like some of the books I’ve read. Stories of knights falling in love who struggle to stay together because of their occupation. They fear losing each other to battle and hold each other tighter every day they survive. But they can’t reveal their relationship to others or they’ll be forced to sacrifice their position. So they meet when everyone has gone to sleep already and when morning comes they have to pretend like nothing happened!”

Caspar stares at Ashe as he rambles on about the forbidden love between knights and nobles. He’s drawn to how his eyes are bright even in the dark and the animated way he speaks. Caspar didn’t think Ashe was such a romantic, but he realizes that could be due to his own regrettable lack of romantic awareness.

He knows for sure though that Ashe is beautiful like this.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to go on a tangent like that, I know it’s not the most interesting-”

“It’s interesting!” Caspar interrupts, gripping the edge of the table. “It’s interesting. When you talk about it, it makes me want to listen…”

“Oh, Caspar,” Ashe says lowly.

Caspar thumbs the metal in an attempt to distract himself from the absolutely thrashing going on in his ribcage. He doesn’t know, and has never cared until _Ashe_ about how love is supposed to work. The time they had spent apart had allowed himself to indulge in that deficiency, but now it’s coming back to choke him.

It didn’t help when Ashe had kissed him earlier that night. Caspar knows how _he_ feels, but what does _that_ mean?

“I-I know I talk a lot, but I like listening to you,” Caspar whispers, something unspoken in his words.

Caspar is brave, but tonight he leaves it all for Ashe.

The sound of metal scraping against stone is deafening in the night. When Caspar looks up again, Ashe has moved his chair as close as possible to him. He inhales sharply when Ashe gently relaxes his hand out of the death grip it has on the table. Ashe slips his hand into his.

“D-Do you want to hear more?” Ashe whispers back.

“I’d love to,” Caspar responds, clutching at Ashe’s hand.

His head is a mess. _Is my grip too tight? Am I clammy? Can I leave to scream and then come back when I’m not losing my mind?_

But as Ashe continues his stories Caspar doesn’t realize he’s already begun to relax. He’s warm and content with Ashe’s hand in his and his voice around him.

In the back of his mind he’s grateful Bandit had run off all those times.

And as if he sensed Caspar’s thoughts, Bandit mews before curling up tighter around Blossom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively: what if we held hands under the amiibo gazebo haha jk unless
> 
> i hope you guys enjoyed, i had a lot of fun busting through this one! the next installments probably won't be as long though lmao
> 
> catch me on twitter [@softresetter](https://twitter.com/softresetter)!


	2. tea for two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day two: tea time/ ~~childhood~~ / ~~classroom~~**
> 
> Ashe and Caspar just want one(1) date after they finally announced they were dating. Their houses are really good at unintentionally making that not happen.

Caspar and Ashe finally found a Sunday they could spend together. Several weeks have passed since they officially became a couple, and the onslaught of training and exams have hindered their romantic progress. But today their schedules have finally opened up.

_Thank the gods_ , Caspar thought to himself, squeezing Ashe’s hand. He looks over questioningly in response, but Caspar just grins.

They decided to go out into town and explore until dinnertime came. Sunshine sat warmly across their skin, the bustle of townspeople and merchants hummed lowly in the background, and the breeze swept Ashe’s hair in the prettiest of ways. _Yep, thank the gods indeed,_ Caspar swooned.

“You sure are in a good mood, Caspar,” Ashe commented, returning his smile.

“Of course I am! Are _you_ not in a good mood? I’m offended,” Caspar joked and placed his free hand over his wounded heart.

“Oh, definitely not. I can imagine all the places I’d rather be.” Ashe rolls his eyes, but Caspar can feel the unspoken _I’d rather be with you_ in the way he bumps purposely into his shoulder.

They stop by a weaponry vendor where Caspar teaches Ashe how to wield an axe. He struggles to swing it properly given his archery focused on putting muscle in his back, not his arms, but they laugh over his mimicry of Caspar’s battle cries. Ashe’s attempts to teach Caspar how to hold a bow are immediately put to a stop when Caspar shoots an arrow straight through the wooden post, narrowly missing the vendor’s face.

Winded from running away, they sampled different fruits and meats from the farmers’ stalls.

“You should really eat more vegetables,” Ashe says, watching Caspar purchase a fat bundle of smoked jerky.

“Eh, I will when I need to.” Caspar shrugs and already starts gnawing on a piece. “Want some?”

Ashe stares at the slice of meat Caspar had already bitten into and shakes his head. “Your logic goes beyond me.”

Their next stop is a non-descript bookshop, dimly lit and packed to the ceiling with books. Caspar isn’t too interested in stuff like this so he follows Ashe around. He jokingly hands Ashe a textbook on mathematics and immediately gets gutted with his fist.

“Ouch,” Caspar whined, clutching at his stomach as he placed the book back.

Ashe snickers and turns around, eyes glowing in the low light. They’ve ended up in a secluded nook in the store where the shelving encloses them on three sides.

“Sorry, did that really hurt?” Ashe said, face turning soft.

“Just a little bit, nothing I couldn’t handle,” Caspar says, puffing his chest. Ashe doesn’t say anything and wraps his arms around him in a hug, burying his face into Caspar’s shoulder. Caspar freezes for a moment, startled by Ashe’s sudden affection, before melting into his hold. He circles his arms around Ashe’s waist tightly.

“What’s the matter, Ashe?” He mumbles into his hair.

“Mm, nothing. I just felt like it. I-Is this okay?”

“This is more than okay,” Caspar breathes and he can’t help but smile. He always surprises him.

Ashe pulls away a bit to stare into Caspar’s eyes, and his breath catches in his throat. He can make out the different shades of green in his gaze, the shape of every freckle, the way Ashe licks his lips before he wants something. Ashe is leaning in closer and he knows exactly what that means, but for a brief second, and Caspar wishes he hadn’t, he looks away. And just past Ashe’s ear, from between the books, he finds someone staring intently at them.

He knows exactly who it is.

Caspar chokes and his hands fly to grip Ashe’s shoulders painfully tight and push him away. Ashe, at arms-length now, looks startled more than anything but he can see the fear and disappointment in his eyes.

_Are you serious, Linhardt?!_ Caspar screams in his mind, watching Linhardt raise his eyebrows in interest. And then, to his horror, he spots another person staring back with wide blue eyes another shelf down. It’s Annette and she looks like she’s containing her squealing.

Now, Caspar is all for being affectionate in public, way more so than Ashe. But this was their day together! This moment was for them and them alone, didn’t they understand that? He wanted him and Ashe to share something that was for their memory only. Not to mention that outright staring at them was just creepy.

“C-Caspar?” Ashe asks shakily. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, gods, no!” Caspar shouted, much too loud for a bookshop. But he didn’t know how to explain it without telling Ashe that their friends were spying on them. He already wasn’t big on kissing in public. _Curse you two for ruining this once-in-a-lifetime event!_

But Ashe seemed to catch the way Caspar’s eyes kept darting behind him, and turned around in his grip.

“Huh?!” Ashe squeaked upon sight of their friends. Caspar watched as his face slowly reddened and reddened until he thought Ashe might pass out.

“Uh, hi Ashe!” Annette chimed, having the decency to _look_ embarrassed.

“Hello,” Linhardt says, much too calm for the hellstorm he brought.

Ashe can’t explain his feelings beyond a sputtering of syllables but makes it clear when he wiggles out of Caspar’s grip and runs away.

“Wait- Ashe!” Caspar shouts after him. He was gone. Embarrassed and gone.

Caspar rounds on the two, fury in his eyes.

“Look what you guys did! What were you even doing here?” Caspar hisses.

“Oh, Caspar, we’re sorry!” Annette apologizes. “We honestly didn’t know you guys were here, we just happened upon you two. I guess that _was_ a little creepy.”

Caspar sighed exasperatedly. They still had hours to spend with each other but knowing Ashe he’ll probably be holed up in his room all night.

“And what about you?” Caspar turns to Linhardt.

“Hm, I was just curious I guess,” he admits. “It’s rare to see you so tender.”

At this, Caspar blushes. It doesn’t negate his anger though.

“J-Just apologize to Ashe, okay? He doesn’t really like having people’s attention on us when we’re… like _that_.”

-

In the following days, things get smoothed out. Linhardt and Annette apologized to Ashe and he just waved it off, saying something about his overreaction. Caspar and Ashe have returned to being swept up in the whirlwind of academy work again.

They definitely tried their best to find time together though.

Caspar tried to have dinner with Ashe alone at the dining hall, but it was so packed the rest of the Blue Lions had to cram onto their table.

In the morning, Ashe invited Caspar to help out with the greenhouse, but Dedue was already tending to the plants. They felt it wrong to kick him out so they all worked together.

They managed to train together one afternoon; Caspar helping Ashe with his bow accuracy and Ashe teaching Caspar strategies against a ranged opponent. It wasn’t something they got to do often, and they felt their bond was strengthened in a new way, but it certainly wasn’t a romantic date. In the end, Edelgard and Hubert came to train too.

-

Caspar is an early riser. He enjoys being the first one in the dining hall for breakfast and then running off to train. What he doesn’t expect is someone knocking on his door before he’s even awake.

He stumbles blearily to the door and yanked it open. Ashe stands before him, already dressed and bright-eyed. Caspar blinks in surprise.

“Ashe? What’s going on?”

“Sorry for waking you up,” Ashe says first, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “How do you feel about having tea right now?”

Caspar hums, the wheels in his brain turning as he reaches for Ashe. He goes easily and they hold each other in his doorway.

The gardens are usually full of students and faculty alike having tea together. But that’s in the afternoon when classes have finished. They’d be the only two there. Alone.

Caspar grins and hurries to get dressed.

When they step outside, the sun hasn’t risen yet and the air bites at their skin. The pond is still and the cats are still asleep, huddled somewhere to keep warm. Even the birds are absent in their chirping. Ashe slips his hand into Caspar’s and presses against his side as they walk to the garden. Caspar can’t help the giddy shudder that runs down his spine.

The tables are indeed devoid of people. Only one holds a teapot, two teacups, and a tiered tray of breakfast pastries. Caspar is in awe of the work Ashe went through to set this up; he knows Ashe isn’t a particular early riser. He wonders if Ashe helped the staff in the kitchen for his early morning request.

“M’lady,” Caspar says, pulling out a chair for Ashe with a grand flourish. He laughs and takes a seat. Caspar brings over the other chair to sit right up against Ashe, complaining about the cold.

“This morning, we have ginger tea and both savory and sweet pies, baked to a golden perfection,” Ashe announced while he poured the tea. The steam rose in thick white wisps, smelling delightfully spiced.

“Wow, you remembered my favorite!”

“It’d be shameful if I didn’t,” Ashe responded, nudging his thigh with his own.

“Nah, I’d just cry,” Caspar quipped and took a sip. The sweet taste burst over his tongue and warmed his core.

“So, how do you feel about the working hours for guards?” Ashe does his best impression of the professor and Caspar can’t help the snort that escapes him.

“Oh, I don’t know, but what about the existence of crests?” Caspar returns, eyes mirthful.

“What of the equipment upkeep?”

“Strange fish in the pond?”

“Methods for growing taller?”

“Hey!” Caspar laughs hard despite himself. “The professor really knows how to get to a man.”

Ashe is laughing himself, clutching his stomach. “Wait, the professor really asked you that?”

“Yeah! Every time we have tea actually!”

Their laughter rang out in the gardens but only they were there to hear it. They talked about everything for the few hours they had until class started. Everything from childhood stories to their ambitions. They talked about each other and the things they liked and admired. Caspar couldn’t contain his own stuttering, but Ashe, though clammy and squirmy, held his hand in reassurance.

“I-I’m really happy we were able to spend time together. You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” Caspar said.

Ashe squeezes his hand and he squeezes back. “Don’t be silly, I know we’ve both been trying to have some time alone.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine it’ll get any easier either.” Caspar hums. “Well, no matter! We’re gonna work it all out and I’ll do my best for you!”

He watches Ashe’s face turn a brilliant shade of red in fascination.

“C-Caspar!”

“What? It’s the truth! There’s nothing we can’t accomplish; look, we just had our first tea date together!”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Ashe agrees with a soft smile. “Perfect tea time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay not gonna lie this ended up being day one except they're official
> 
> my original idea was that they weren't dating yet and caspar asked hilda how to go on a date, except hilda teaches him while he's on the date with ashe and she's like holding up signs behind ashe's head, but i'm not big brain enough for that kind of shenanigans
> 
> catch me on twitter [@softresetter](https://twitter.com/softresetter)


	3. a sick fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day three: cooking/ ~~baking~~ / ~~gardening~~**
> 
> Caspar gets sick and makes a couple of promises to Ashe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hands you ashe’s backstory* *hands you ashe’s backstory* *hands you ashe’s backstory* *hands you as-

“Hyah!” Caspar grunts as he swings his axe in a wide arc, narrowly missing the professor’s arm. Byleth side steps in the opposite direction and slashes sideways at his torso. He’s slow to recover from his own attack and Caspar takes the hit. He stumbles back, but he’s given no chance to catch his footing before the professor is taking another swing.

Caspar decides to go with his momentum and falls into a roll to dodge. His whole body aches with the impact, but he focuses on breathing instead. When he scrambles to his feet again the professor is no longer attacking, standing with his sword by his side.

“I’m not done yet!” Pain lances up his throat and his wince doesn't go unnoticed.

“You’re not fighting like you usually are,” Byleth says calmly, making his way over.

“What do you mean? So I took a hit, I can keep going!” Caspar insists.

“You took a hit, and another before that, and then another before that. You’re not usually this slow, Caspar, although just as reckless.”

Caspar frowns at that, wiping at that sweat trailing down his neck. “What are you trying to say?”

Byleth stares at Caspar for a moment, long and silent enough to make him squirmy. Eventually, he places a cool hand to Caspar’s forehead and frowns.

“You’re burning up.”

“We were fighting, of course I’m hot,” Caspar grumbles, beginning to get irritated.

“This is a fever, Caspar,” Byleth insists. “You might be sick.”

“I’m not s-” Caspar interrupts himself with a sudden coughing fit. It makes his body ache like he hit the floor again and a shiver races up his skin.

Byleth pats Caspar’s back helpfully, allowing him to get it out.

“Okay, so maybe I’m sick,” Caspar croaks.

-

Byleth accompanied him to Manuela to get checked up and then sent him on his way to his dorm with a packet of medicine.

“I’ll have someone bring you dinner,” Byleth said at Caspar’s door. “Don’t do anything extraneous or you’ll only prolong your illness. I know Manuela said it was just a mild infection, but focus on recovering.”

He gave Caspar a knowing stare before shutting the door.

Caspar sighed and pulled the blanket up over his nose. This definitely wasn’t on his to-do list. He rarely got sick, but when he thinks back to the few times he did it was utterly awful. It’s nothing but lying in bed and hacking away. Days and nights are indistinguishable from an irregular sleeping pattern. Caspar didn’t even have much to occupy his waking hours with because all the things he enjoyed weren’t allowed when he was sick!

Basically, Caspar would like to kill every germ in all of Fodlan right now.

He isn’t alone with his murderous thoughts very long before someone is opening his door.

“Ah, you’re making that face. So you are sick,” Linhardt announces. He takes a seat at Caspar’s desk, placing a few books down.

“Yes, I am, and I’m hating it,” Caspar mumbles from beneath the blanket. “Professor Manuela said it’s nothing serious, but it’s supposed to get worse.”

“Do you have the icky medicine?”

“I have the icky medicine?”

“Then you’ll live.”

Caspar sighs but it turns into a coughing fit that forces him to sit up. Linhardt is kind enough to expend the energy to hand him his glass of water.

“I don’t think I _want_ to live,” Caspar rasps.

The next few hours are spent by Linhardt going on tangents about his research and periodically napping while Caspar listens and makes pointless input. He considered studying himself but the idea wasn’t appealing enough at the moment. Eventually, the fever and coughing took its toll on his body, and he fell asleep.

When he wakes he isn’t sure how much time has passed. Linhardt is gone without a trace, but his water glass is full again. He grimaces when he notices how sweaty he is. At least his fever broke.

Caspar is busy wiping away his sweat with a towel when someone knocks on his door.

“Caspar? Are you awake?”

He recognizes Ashe’s voice and freezes midway patting down his armpits.

“U-Uh, give me a second!” Caspar can’t believe Ashe has to see him in this state. Just another reason to hate being sick. He tosses the towel in the direction of his other dirty clothes and pulls his shirt back down.

“I’m good!” He calls, settling back against the wall.

Ashe appears in the doorway with a tray of food and a smile.

“Hey, how’re you feeling? The professor told me you were sick and in need of food,” he said. Ashe sits on the edge of the bed and places the tray of food between them.

“Yeah, I haven’t been real thrilled about it,” Caspar admits. “But I feel better now that you’re here.”

Ashe blushes and laughs. “If I could automatically cure you with my presence, I’d have been here hours ago. I cooked you dinner, though, so that’ll have to do. The menu tonight wasn’t really sick-person friendly-”

Caspar immediately cuts him off, “Woah, woah, woah, what? You said you cooked for me? For _me_?”

“Uh, yes?”

Caspar looks down at the tray of food. On it sits a large bowl of steaming stew, carrots and chunks of meat peeking from the surface. It’s accompanied by a small plate of sliced bread with spread and a bowl of Noa fruit.

“Ashe,” Casper nearly sobs and lunges across the bed to hug him.

“C-Caspar, be careful of the food!” Ashe hugs him anyway and says, “What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t have to do this for me!”

“But I wanted to! I know I didn’t have to, but I thought it’d be nice to cook for you. I-I wanted to take care of you somehow,” Ashe confesses, patting Caspar’s back. Caspar pulls away slightly to stare into Ashe’s eyes, gaze intent.

“Oh, no you don’t- I can’t get sick too!” Ashe laughs when he dodges Caspar’s attempt to smooch him with exaggerated kissy lips, smacking at his shoulder. “Come on now, you need to eat.”

Caspar’s grinning from ear to ear when he settles down and places the tray in his lap. He says, “I really appreciate it, Ashe. I’m going to eat every last bit!”

His first bite is nothing short of life-changing. The meat is tender and savory, the vegetables are soft, and the broth doesn’t distract from the taste of the ingredients. It’s perfect.

“Ashe, this is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.” Caspar thinks momentarily he sounds like Ashe when he talks about his fantasy knights.

“There’s no need to exaggerate, you already have me,” Ashe says coyly. He crawls over to sit next to him against the wall. “How’d you get sick in the first place?”

“Dunno. Probably caught it from someone else at some point.”

Caspar is too busy eating hungrily to notice Ashe staring at him from the side (he really underestimated how hungry he was) until Ashe is stroking his head gently. He peeks over at him, still chewing.

“Take care of yourself, okay? I know sometimes getting injured and sick is out of your hands, but just- just don’t be reckless,” Ashe murmurs quietly. Caspar senses something darker in his words and places the tray aside to take Ashe’s hand in his.

“I know I can get into some pretty bad situations, but I promise I’m being careful,” Caspar responds and squeezes Ashe’s hand firmly. He smiles softly, like Caspar’s grip is the only thing keeping him from slipping into a time long passed. Ashe looks helpless for a brief moment when Caspar leans in to press his lips to his temple.

“Yeah,” Ashe whispers.

Caspar knocks his head gently against his and says, “Don’t worry, you know I won’t be kissing any sick fools.”

Ashe’s laugh is thin but his smile is real and warm. “No, but I am.”

Caspar finishes his meal while they talk, and by the end he can feel they’re both weary. Ashe helps him take his medicine for the night and then collects the tray.

“Thank you for the meal, Ashe, I really loved it,” Caspar said, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“I’m glad you did, I was a little worried it might not be to your taste.”

“You know me too well, it was perfect.”

When Caspar reaches out for him he set the tray down and stands between Caspar’s legs. Ashe’s arms come around to hug his head to his chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Caspar asks.

“I’ll see you after class.”

“How about I go to class?”

“How about you get better first?” Ashe quips back. Caspar pouts even though he can’t see it.

“Fine,” he conceded. They stay there for a moment, basking in each other’s warmth, before another cough racks Caspar’s body.

Ashe is quick to retrieve the glass of water and pat Caspar’s back. His lungs burn and the taste of phlegm isn’t great, but it passes soon enough. _Man, I’m not getting any smooching done anytime soon,_ Caspar lamented. He was only half serious.

He chugs the water and when he outstretches the glass back to Ashe he pauses. Worry creased Ashe’s brow, a sight only familiar to Caspar when they’re about to go into battle. Instead of placing the cup in Ashe’s hand, he slips his fingers between his and squeezes. Caspar gets an immediately squeeze back.

“Hey, I’m gonna be okay. It’s just a small infection, I’ll be better in no time,” Caspar said gently. When Ashe doesn’t respond, he pulls him back into his arms. He collapses onto Caspar’s lap and he rearranges him until Ashe is sitting on one thigh, arms thrown around Caspar’s neck.

“I know, I just worry,” Ashe whispers. Caspar rubs his back in slow circles, feeling the intermittent shudders of Ashe holding something in.

Caspar doesn’t know how to remedy this, not yet, so he can only hold Ashe tight. Minutes pass before Ashe says anything else.

“Don’t get sick again,” Ashe murmurs, and it almost feels like a threat.

“I won’t,” Caspar promises.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’m seeing you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me just say, this was not the direction this was intended to go in, but i dig it
> 
> i imagine that ashe would be terrified of any of his loved ones getting sick considering what happened to his parents. with caspar, he can do his best to keep him from getting physically hurt, but against illness there’s sometimes nothing you can do. caspar is unfamiliar with ashe looking helpless and in the end all he can do is make promises that maybe one day he can’t keep
> 
> catch me on twitter [@softresetter](https://twitter.com/softresetter)!


	4. just business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day four: any au- boba shop au**
> 
> Ashe works at a boba shop and develops a devastating crush on the hot new regular. Turns out, he's more than just a regular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a hot mess and it's late but please take my boba boy ashe and hot stud caspar

“You’re order number seventy-three! We’ll call for you shortly.” Ashe hands the guest a slip of paper indicating her number with a smile. When she leaves the register Ashe heaves a huge sigh and surveys the store. She was the last of the huge rush, thankfully.

Blaiddyd’s Boba is the hottest boba shop in the area. It’s close to the university, neighbors a popular fast-casual restaurant, and in Ashe’s opinion, offers the best menu. In the past two years, he’s been working here, Ashe has gone through the entire menu at least three times and still sticks to his conclusion.

“Hey, don’t space out now, Ashe!” Annette calls.

“Crap, sorry, sorry!”

The only downside is the ridiculous volume of customers they receive.

He pushes off the counter to help run the drinks Annette finished through the sealer. When they’re finished and Ashe is handing the drinks off, Ingrid is slipping closely beside him to refill the straws and napkins. He hears Sylvain reading off the next few orders. Annette responds cheerily.

They were all hired around the same time and their teamwork built over many, many shifts is impeccable. Ashe never really has many situations where he can brag about it, but he’s really proud and happy to be working at Blaiddyd’s.

He’s helping Ingrid refill the toppings when Sylvain calls, “Ashe, take the register?”

“Yep, got it!”

Ashe hastily wipes his hands with a towel and turns back to the register, a smile donning his face. When he faces the customer Ashe’s immediate thought is _oh, he’s hot._

After two years, Ashe has had his fair share of mind-numbingly attractive guys come in and out. People have come onto him, he’s come onto people; it’s a fun, familiar little thing. He’s even exchanged numbers with a few of his candidates. Hell, he still meets up with Felix occasionally.

So naturally, Ashe isn’t afraid to come on a little strong when mister defined arms and blue undercut is standing in front of _his_ register.

“Hi, I haven’t seen you around here before,” Ashe starts, leaning against the counter on both palms. “I’m here to help or give you recommendations. Let me know if you need _anything_.”

He thinks he hears Annette choking in the background, but Ashe pays no heed and bats his lashes a few times. The man visibly swallows, eyes darting from Ashe’s coquettish gaze to the soft upturn of his lips before smiling wide.

“Oh, th-thanks! Just give me a sec…” He quickly averts his gaze back up to the menu. Ashe uses the opportunity to let his eyes wander. His face is friendly but devastatingly handsome. He wears a fitted black tee that’s doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he’s at least semi-ripped. Even the way he scrunches up his lips in thought is kinda cute.

Ashe hums to himself in approval. When the man shifts his weight he wonders if he heard.

“Okay, I think I’m ready.”

Ashe’s eyes snap back up to his face. “Go ahead!”

“I’ll take a large matcha milk tea with pudding and boba, and a black tea with just boba,” he orders, reaching for his wallet.

Ashe reads it back to him and punches it into the system dutifully. “Is the other for a girlfriend, maybe?”

The man laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, just my roommate.”

“Oh, that’s really nice of you,” Ashe says. “That’s too bad, though. You seem like you’d do well in the dating scene looking like that.”

He misses horribly when he tries to stick his card into the reader. “Y-You think?”

Ashe is honest when he nods enthusiastically. “Oh, _absolutely_ ,” he says, smiling. Before the man can say anything else he’s finishing the transaction and handing him his order slip. “See you in a bit!”

Before he turns away Ashe catches the flustered blush reddening his cheeks. He hums happily and pivots back to the work stations in a twirl.

“So,” Sylvain draws out, filling two cups with their respective toppings, “what’s the verdict?”

“Mm, very cute. I think he knows I’m flirting with him? Probably. He seems a little dense,” Ashe admits, working on mixing the drinks.

Ingrid sighs from where she’s wiping down the counter. “Sylvain, I honestly think you’ve corrupted Ashe.”

“I didn’t corrupt him, he was already like this when we met,” Sylvain defends himself. “I just brought it out of him, ya know? I did him a great service and gave him _confidence_. Isn’t that right, Ashe?”

“Not that I enjoy agreeing with Sylvain, but Sylvain is right.” Ashe bursts into laughter when Ingrid tosses her rag at him. “Why does it still surprise you?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed so…”

“Virginal?” Sylvain supplies.

“ _Unsuspecting_ ,” Ingrid corrects. “You don’t seem like the flirtatious type.”

Ashe _ah’_ s in understanding. “I mean, I don’t need to be _Sylvain_ to flirt with people.”

He’s certainly not a casanova like Sylvain, and Ashe is aware he doesn’t look like he’s dropping panties just by existing. But he’s also aware that he doesn’t initially come off as a tease. He may not be sweeping anyone off their feet but he’d be damned if he couldn’t admit he’s at least a _little_ good at convincing others to sweep _him_ off his feet.

When the drinks are finished he calls the man’s number and meets him at the counter.

“Thanks!” He reaches for them, but Ashe holds on to the cups. The way he looks up with a cocked eyebrow is kind of cute, Ashe thinks.

“I hope you enjoy. It’d be nice to see you around again,” Ashe drawls, flashing that pretty smile of his.

The man blinks before giving him a bright grin of his own, much more confident than the ones prior.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be seeing more of me soon.” And with a wink he collects his drinks from Ashe’s loose grip and waltzes out the door, leaving Ashe dumbfounded and alone.

“Where the hell did _that_ come from…?”

-

The man - Caspar, he eventually learns - stays true to his word. About two to three times a week, around the same time, he stops by and orders two drinks; black tea with boba for the roommate, and something different every time for himself.

“You’re really adventurous, aren’t you?” Ashe comments on Caspar’s sixth visit. Not that he’s counting.

“Trying new things is the fun part about boba,” Caspar said cheerily.

Ashe couldn’t help but laugh at his genuine enthusiasm. Caspar had stared openly, mouth twitching like he had something to say. It bothered him the rest of the day. _What was he thinking?_

Most days Ashe kept his flirting mild; a flutter of his lashes here, a shameless compliment there. Most days Caspar didn’t offer much in reciprocation, but there were moments he thinks he got to him.

Caspar isn’t as dense about getting hit on as Ashe initially thought. He blushes when he makes a suggestive comment, and he isn’t very good at staring at Ashe’s lips inconspicuously. Sometimes, and Ashe honestly and regretfully thinks it’s unintentional, Caspar does things that make him think he’s kind of into him.

Like when he tells Ashe he wasn’t going to come that day but decided he wanted to talk to him, even if brief. Or when he asks Ashe what he thinks of his new haircut, eyes wide and expectant. Or even the time he noticed Ashe was feeling like shit and couldn’t pull a genuine smile, so he ordered a third drink just for him.

At first, Ashe just enjoyed teasing reactions out of Caspar. But when he thinks about those moments and what he suddenly _wants_ them to mean, Ashe realizes he has a bit of a crush.

Over Caspar’s many visits Ashe has learned tiny tidbits of information about Caspar. Like Ashe, he’s also a student at the university but takes mostly early bird classes. He’s a kinesiology major, goes to the gym a lot (obviously), and makes a living mostly doing odd jobs. Caspar really enjoys the store’s matcha milk tea (the only drink he has ordered twice) but doesn’t like black sesame (Ashe is only inferring this, as he’s noticed he has yet to order a single black sesame flavored drink).

Caspar always leaves after receiving his drinks with a smile, so there’s never the opportunity for Ashe to know anything deeper than things like that.

That changes on the eleventh visit, about a month after they first met.

Summer weather has finally kicked in and Caspar walks in dressed accordingly; plain blue shorts and a loose, white muscle tee. For the first time, Ashe can see the bare, mouth-watering definition of his shoulders, the unhindered view of his biceps when flexed. When Caspar turns at a certain angle Ashe even gets a peek of cut pecs through the armhole of his shirt.

Caspar spots Ashe and lifts an arm to wave, and _wow_ , yeah, that’s his nipple. Ashe waves back feebly and spins back to the sealer machine.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Ashe keens. As much as Ashe has developed a liking to Caspar’s loud and honest personality, he can’t help that he’s obviously attracted to him.

Annette peers over his shoulder to get a look and lights up. “Oh, Ashe, he’s back!”

“I’m aware! But did he have to come in looking like _that_?!”

“Like what?” Sylvain pipes up from Annette’s other side. When he catches a glimpse of Caspar he whistles. “Ooh, real glad for summer now aren’t you? Gonna turn the heat up on him? Tell him he’s _real_ hot stuff now? That he’s making you _sweat_?”

Ashe shakes his head and lets loose a crazed laugh. “I don’t think I stand a _chance_ today.”

Ingrid is manning the register for now, and Caspar still has a few people in front of him, so Ashe periodically glances at him while he works. It’s only then he realizes he has someone accompanying him. Tall, gorgeous forest green hair, with a bored, almost sleepy expression. Ashe feels something heavy suddenly weigh in his chest and he forces himself to focus on mixing drinks.

_A new boyfriend?_ Ashe wonders, only mildly unnerved. He wouldn’t say he’s _jealous_ of all things. Maybe just disappointed he didn’t even get a chance to properly ask him out for a date or anything. He guesses he _did_ have a month to make a move.

Ashe is so lost in his thoughts it takes Ingrid four times to call his attention.

“What-”

“ _Caspar_ ,” Ingrid says and literally manhandles him in front of the register. Disorientated and suddenly faced with Caspar’s smiling face, Ashe blinks.

“Oh! Hi,” he says dumbly. “Brought a friend today?”

Caspar places an arm around the other man’s shoulders and Ashe twitches.

“Ashe, this is the roommate, Linhardt! He needed to get out of the house, so I brought him along this time,” Caspar introduces. _Oh, thank god._ Ashe’s entire body relaxes and he finally manages a smile.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Linhardt,” Ashe says with sincerity.

Linhardt nods curtly. “Likewise. Sorry for the handful Caspar can be.”

“Hey!”

Ashe laughs and waves his hand in dismissal. “He’s no trouble; he’s a great customer and he’s plenty charming enough to make up for his volume.”

Caspar rubs the back of his head in embarrassment. Ashe busies himself punching in Linhardt’s usual on the system to avoid staring at the flex of muscles.

“I’m not _that_ loud,” Caspar whines.

“You _did_ try to start a fistfight,” Ashe points out.

Caspar’s face hardens at that, brows furrowed. “That guy brought it onto himself! He knew you were busy and short one person, but he kept yelling at you! I’m not just gonna stand by and let that happen.”

Ashe remembers that day vividly. They had a busy afternoon rush and Sylvain happened to call in sick. Annette had gotten the tickets mixed up, resulting in a delay to get the right drinks to the right people. But one customer, an older man with _the longest_ stick up his ass, decided to entertain the entire store by complaining about the wait to Ashe, who was still clearly busy. It was only making the process slower, but all Ashe could do was apologize in the face of absolute screaming.

“Thanks for being my knight in shining armor, but we can’t condone violence in our store,” Ashe replied with a laugh.

Caspar grumbles, “You didn’t deserve it.”

Ashe stares at Caspar and softens when he says, “No, I didn’t. I still don’t think you should have punched him, but thank you for standing up for me when no one else would. I mean it.”

That seems to placate Caspar because he meets Ashe’s gaze head-on and for the first time, they smile at each other without looking away. Ashe feels warm; he feels like he just shared something intimate with him.

Linhardt coughs then, and they’re broken out of their trance.

“Right,” Ashe says, “What’ll it be today?”

Caspar orders a strawberry ice blended with lychee jelly and then takes Linhardt to sit at an empty table.

“You’re smiling an awful lot,” Ingrid comments when he returns to the stations.

“Am I?” Ashe realizes he _is_ and that startles him because he’s never felt this affected by someone he’s just been chatting up. A nice date and then maybe a night back at Ashe’s place was all he had in mind, but maybe there’s a small part of him that would want more than that. _Yeah,_ two _dates_ , Ashe thinks sarcastically, then shoves all that down. It’s not something he wants to dwell on.

The team works in silence for the next several minutes, listening to the gentle chatter of customers over the pop music in the background. It’s calming and Ashe doesn’t think about Caspar and maybe getting a third or fourth date.

He doesn’t think until he realizes Caspar and Linhardt’s drinks are done. Ashe looks over at their table. They’re deeply engrossed in a heated conversation. At least, Caspar is; Linhardt looks exasperated at the most. He looks frantic and upset, and his face is red from gesturing wildly and pulling at his hair. Ashe has seen him angry, but he’s never seen Caspar _distressed_.

Linhardt happens to look over at Ashe at that moment. He holds up their finished drinks and he nods in acknowledgement. Linhardt says something to Caspar and he blanches. Caspar is shaking his head rapidly but Linhardt stands, says something else that makes him shut up, and then leaves, probably to their car Ashe assumes.

Ashe pretends not to have witnessed all of that when Caspar finally walks up to the counter.

“Hey, hot stuff, here’s your order,” Ashe says, sliding the two drinks towards him.

“Yeah, thanks as always.” Caspar doesn’t even react to the pet name. He looks focused, a complete turn around from the mess he was five seconds ago. Ashe watches him heave a huge breath before slapping his palm down on the counter.

“Uh, if you’d be interested,” Caspar starts, “I’d really like to take you out somewhere. Give me a text, okay?” He shoots a smile, confident now, then takes the drinks and leaves.

Ashe stares at his retreating back with his mouth open. When he looks down he realizes Caspar had left the paper slip with his order number on it, and more importantly, he wrote his number down. Ashe takes it between his fingers and stares at it for a moment, his brain processing.

Then it dawns on him. _He brought Linhardt for moral support_ , Ashe realizes. _He was psyching himself up to ask me out._

Ashe slithers to the floor and hugs his knees in a crouch, face flaming.

“Sylvain, can I take my break early?”

-

Texting Caspar is really fun. He uses a lot of exclamation points and sends funny emotes, but genuinely conversing with him is addicting, Ashe thinks. He discovers they both like cats and they watch the same historical drama. When he mentions that he has a lot of plants in his apartment, Caspar responded with a picture of Linhardt saying, _this is my plant_.

He also learns that Caspar actually comes from a wealthy family, but he didn’t want to get into politics like his father and brothers, so he decided to follow his true interests in life. Ashe finds his sense of individuality and determination admirable. He himself didn’t come from an upper class background, but like Caspar, he went against his parents wishes of taking up the family restaurant. It took a lot of courage.

Since they started texting, Caspar hasn’t stopped by the shop, to Ashe’s dismay. The only reason he hadn’t brought it up in the past week is because they agreed to meet up today.

Ashe is fixing his hair in the mirror when his phone dings.

_hi, im here :)_

He smiles, shoots off an _okay!_ and does once last check of himself. He rolled the sleeves up on a baby blue button up and left the top two buttons open for a little tease. Paired with black shorts, matching black sneakers, and a little more effort into styling his hair: _this is casual, right?_

Ashe still isn’t entirely sure if this was a date even when he’s heading down the stairs to find Caspar’s car. It’s hard not to miss.

The passenger window of the shiny black BMW rolls down and Ashe leans down.

“Are you sure I’m allowed to ride in this?” Ashe jokes. A part of him is a little mortified because he’s _never_ been in anything this expensive.

“Are you really going to complain?” Caspar had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Nope.” He opens the door and slides in, the leather smooth and comfortable against his skin.

“Hi,” Caspar greets once Ashe is buckled in. He’s wearing a collared shirt, the first he’s ever seen on him, black and contrasting nicely against his skin. It’s a nice change from the gym t-shirts and sweats Caspar happens to wear to the shop.

Caspar catches Ashe’s gaze wandering and flushes, so Ashe spares him and says, “Hey. So, where are you taking me?”

“Oh! I hope it’s not weird, but there’s actually a boba shop I wanted to take you.” Caspar rubs the back of his neck.

Ashe blinks in surprise. That’s an odd choice. “Well, that’s- that’s definitely bold,” he admits with a laugh. “You’re asking me to betray my own people?”

“It’s not betrayal! It’s just being adventurous, right?” Caspar grins and Ashe easily returns it.

“Right.”

The drive is only twenty minutes from his apartment, on the opposite side of the university from where Blaiddyd’s is. They pull into a metered parking slot in front of a boldly red storefront.

“Edelgard von Tea,” Ashe reads.

“Yeah, it’s great!” Caspar finishes paying and leads him inside.

It definitely has a different feel from Blaiddyd’s. The color scheme includes the same brilliant red outside and black, contrasting from the cool blue and white Ashe is used to. There’s a beautiful mural of an eagle stretched out on the wall above the seating area. The music in the background is rap, not pop. Ashe feels intimidated almost.

“Do you come here often?” Ashe asks as they stand in line.

“Uh, no. I mean, that’d be a lot of boba if I’m coming here and to you,” Caspar answers.

“Oh, that’s true. It honestly feels like I’m watching you cheat on Blaiddyd’s just standing here,” Ashe teases, nudging Caspar with his arm.

“Hey, I am not a cheater! I am pretty damn loyal to you!” Caspar doesn’t even realize the implications of his words, leaving Ashe with a fuzzy feeling and wandering thoughts. Ashe knows he instigated it but he can’t help the shyness that accompanies those fantasies.

“Hello, what can I get you two?” Ashe realizes they made it to the front of the line and he hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“I’ll take a matcha milk tea with red beans,” Caspar orders. “Ashe?”

“Uh, I’ll take the same. With pudding.”

The employee is ringing it up and Ashe doesn’t realize until it’s too late that Caspar is paying for both of them.

“You didn’t have to pay for me,” Ashe complained on their way to a table.

“Nah, it’s cool, I get a discount anyway.”

“You get a discount?” Ashe raises an eyebrow. “You said you don’t come here often.”

Caspar freezes, looking lost for words. “Uh, I mean, I-I have a friend that works here. I just, uh, use their code, you know…”

Ashe doesn’t remember Caspar giving the girl any code but he doesn’t push it and he’s changing the subject anyway.

“Anyway! How’s the shop been?” Caspar asks.

“That’s right, you haven’t been around since-” Ashe pauses. “Well, since, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Both of their faces have gone red in remembrance.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d initiate anything first,” Ashe admits with a laugh. “I couldn’t tell if you were too nice to tell me to back off or if you were secretly enjoying it.”

“I mean, I wasn’t _not_ enjoying it. I just didn’t know how to respond. Every time I saw you I just didn’t expect you to be so…”

“So?”

“So… flirty.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“I actually-”

Caspar gets cut off by the arrival of their drinks.

“Here you go, two matcha red bean milk teas, one with pudding,” the girl announces.

They thank her but before she leaves completely she turns around and says, “Oh, Caspar. Bernadetta says she will be ill tomorrow, so you must take her shift. I do not know how she knows she will be sick in advance, but she has already left. Enjoy!”

Ashe’s forehead creases with confusion when she leaves. Caspar is running a hand through his hair, face scrunched up with both disappointment and guilt.

“Caspar?” Ashe asks slowly. “Do you… Do you work here?”

He’s silent for a moment before he explodes in a flurry of words. “Okay, yes, I am! But I was going to tell you! I wouldn’t bring you here and then not tell you, I was definitely going to tell you, I swear! I’m kinda broke right now, but I really wanted to take you out and I get a thirty percent discount here!”

Ashe is flattered for one, but still lost. “Well, okay, that’s fine and everything, but why did you come to Blaiddyd’s so often when you already work at a boba shop?”

Caspar sighs. He scrubs his face with his hands before slumping back in his chair.

“This place opened up about a month ago, and I’ve been a part of the team since the beginning,” Caspar starts. “The owner - she’s the manager too - wanted to know who our competition was around town to see what we could do better or offer differently. Blaiddyd’s is the only other boba shop, so I was basically sent to go through your menu and report back.”

“So you were scoping us out? So you could eventually do better and run us to the ground?” Ashe knows he’s being a little dramatic, but that’s essentially the goal, right? It’s just business.

“No! Well, the first part, yes; but the second part, no!” Caspar is leaning forward across the table now. “Edelgard is a ruthless businesswoman, sure, but she’s not trying to kick you guys out!”

“That may not be her intention, but it can happen,” Ashe says. “Look, that’s not why I’m upset; that’s honestly just business. Whatever. But why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well- I- I don’t know!” He’s running a hand through his hair again, pulling at the strands. “I just- I just saw how happy you look when you work there, I didn’t want you to think I was trying to sabotage the place. It seemed like it meant a lot to you, more than just a job.”

Ashe stares at Caspar in surprise. He didn’t know he was that perceptive to realize such a thing; even when they started texted he didn’t talk about the shop. It was genuinely touching.

“And, I didn’t want you to think that was the only reason I was there,” Caspar continues. “I mean, obviously the first few times I was there to test the menu out, but after that it wasn’t necessary to keep going…”

“What are you saying, Caspar?” Ashe prompts, scraping his nail against the table mindlessly.

“I-I like you, Ashe. Well, I started to like you, so I kept going,” he confesses. His face has gone red and he won’t make eye contact anymore. “I’m not really good at being _smooth_ or whatever, like you are, so I didn’t know how to approach you. Linhardt honestly had to force me to man up and be honest.”

Ashe’s head is spinning a million miles a minute because wow maybe he _can_ get a second date? Caspar’s feelings mean a hundred different things but all he can think is that this isn’t a one time thing, and all the floaty feelings he’s had for the past month can mean something _real_.

“Um, Ashe?”

“Huh?!”

“I’m really sorry if I read you wrong. I thought maybe you liked me too-”

“I do!” Ashe shouts and suddenly it’s strange to be louder than Caspar. “I do, I really do. I flirt for fun and I was waiting to see what it would take for you to take me home-”

Caspar turns a burning shade of red and mumbles, “T-Take you home…”

“-but I didn’t expect to develop feelings. I couldn't tell for sure if you were interested or not, so I just kept waiting for, I don’t know, a sign I guess? Honestly, if you hadn’t given me your number that day I was just going to ask you myself the next time you came around.”

“Maybe I should’ve saved myself the anxiety and waited then,” Caspar jokes.

Ashe shakes his head and grins. “ _I_ enjoyed it. Your confidence is really hot.”

Caspar’s fumbling again but Ashe can’t be bothered to feel bad anymore.

They end up talking for another two hours, slowly finishing their drinks in between stories and flirting. Ashe has taken to trapping one of Caspar’s ankles between his legs and Caspar links his pinky with his. It’s painfully juvenile but Ashe is giddy with joy.

-

Neither of them wanted their date to end, so they went out for dinner too. It was the most fun Ashe has had in a long time. Between work and classes, they both needed a day to just relax.

Caspar grew more comfortable as the night wore on and Ashe wasn’t lying when he said his confidence was hot. He may not have gotten used to Ashe’s teasing but Caspar is stupidly honest about his attraction towards him, whether he realizes it himself or not, and Ashe wonders how he ever doubted it.

The sun had set hours ago but the city lights keep the sky lit in a hazy purple. In the absence of the summer warmth from earlier, Ashe has linked his arm around Caspar’s as they walk back to his car.

“Okay, I didn’t think we’d be out this long or I would’ve brought a jacket,” Ashe lamented, shivering against Caspar’s side. He squeezes him close in response.

“We’re almost there! Besides, spending this time with you was totally worth it.” Caspar glances over at him with a wide grin.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The drive back to Ashe’s apartment is both too long and too short and filled with horrible renditions of old r&b music. He briefly wonders if he should invite Caspar in or if that’s too forward. Just imagining Caspar standing in his tiny apartment with his big, bright smile is too much to handle. _Maybe next time_.

Caspar parks in a visitor’s spot and walks Ashe up to his door. When they arrive, they stand facing each other.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Ashe says with a soft smile. “It makes up for you trying to threaten the business of my own work.”

“Hey, if anything, I was helping you guys out with how many times I came by,” Caspar defends himself.

“Sure, sure. Well, now I can visit _you_ instead.”

“Yeah, of course! I’m working the night shift on Tuesday; I can give you my discount.” Ashe can’t help but laugh at Caspar’s excitement.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday then.”

“Definitely.”

They stand there, unsure of how to leave, not really _wanting_ to leave. From how close they are, Ashe can see distinctly see Caspar swallow, blue eyes intent on Ashe. He’s trapped in Caspar’s gaze and Ashe suddenly realizes he’s not used to his direct eye contact. It stalls the breath in his throat, brings a flush to his cheeks.

Ashe sways and then Caspar is there, hands tight around his waist and _kissing him_. Ashe inhales sharply, his brain trying to catch up with his body.

Caspar’s mouth is hot against is, eager and a little rough, and Ashe is on autopilot, kissing him back. Caspar crowds him against his door, pressing their bodies together and securing his arms around him this time. Ashe hums in response and slides his hands up the firm muscles of his arms and around to clasp behind his neck.

He is so, so warm and so, so close to pulling him into his apartment, but then they’re parting. They pant softly against each other’s mouths, foreheads pressed together. Ashe is so full of want and the way Caspar kneads his sides isn’t helping.

“I love kissing you,” Caspar whispers, painfully honest in the way he pecks at the corner of his lips.

Ashe laughs breathily. “Isn’t it a little early to be dropping the L-word?”

“I only needed to kiss you once to be sure.” Caspar is grinning and Ashe’s face is absolutely on fire.

“You can’t say that,” he says between laughter. Ashe noses his cheek gently, pressing small kisses to his jawline.

“I just did.” Caspar turns his head to meet Ashe’s lips with his and they kiss slower this time, familiarizing themselves with each other. It’s sweet and everything Ashe didn’t know he wanted.

Ashe is reluctant to pull away, always drawing Caspar back in for another kiss before he can say goodnight. They ended up standing against Ashe’s apartment door for half an hour, just kissing each other in each other’s arms.

“I need to go home,” Caspar finally mumbled against his lips.

“Mm, no.”

Caspar indulges him in another kiss at that. “What about now?”

Ashe grins. “Nope.”

“Come on, Ashe, I have class in the morning.”

“Okay, okay. Crap, it probably _is_ really late. I’m sorry for keeping you out so late,” he apologizes.

“It’s okay, I’d much rather be here with you anyway. I’ll see you on Tuesday?”

“Tuesday.”

They finally pull away, the night air chilling without Caspar’s body surrounding him.

“Drive safe, okay?”

“Yep! Goodnight, Ashe.”

“Goodnight.”

And then Caspar lifts a hand to wave before retreating back down the stairs, his figure dissolving into the night. Ashe slowly turns around and roots for his keys in his pocket. When he manages to get in he sinks to the ground against the door.

His sides hurt from how hard Caspar had been holding him, and his lips are swollen and throbbing. But he is so unapologetically warm and happy, his thoughts full of Caspar. Ashe has never been so captivated by _anybody_ before.

“Holy shit,” Ashe mutters to himself before a huge grin splits his face.

He can’t wait for Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have so many feelings about this???
> 
> as i was writing there were so many things i wanted to flush out: ashe and caspar's family situations, the blaiddyd gang dynamic, ashe getting to see caspar working instead, all the days caspar came in to visit. as is such, i miiiight turn this into its own separate fic, but we'll see!
> 
> honestly the hard part was trying to make ashe flirty, but not,,, sylvain. ashe and sylvain have very different personalities but i imagine that ashe, at face value, enjoys flirting and teasing people just as much. retaining ashe's canon personality was difficult and i'm not sure i executed it as well as i could have (also why i might turn this into its own fic)
> 
> nailing caspar's personality was hard too. he's sometimes dense about getting hit on, but for the most part in this story he's typically aware of ashe's advances. he's more straightforward and direct about things in comparison to ashe who kind of skirts around his feelings and intentions; but he just needs a little push sometimes. everybody say thank you linhardt
> 
> and yeah, that's that! i enjoy boba and i also work at a boba place, so this was super fun!
> 
> catch me on twitter [@softresetter](https://twitter.com/softresetter)


	5. a thousand deaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day five: after battle/ ~~reunion~~**
> 
> Ashe and Caspar get into a fight after a rough battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some descriptions of blood and violence

Caspar’s heart stops when he hears an ear-splitting shriek cut through the noise of the battlefield. It’s Ashe, he knows for a gut-wrenching fact that it’s Ashe, but it shouldn’t be. Ashe should be in the backline protecting Mercedes and Annette, laying down cover fire for the frontline. He shouldn’t be able to _hear_ him this _close._

He can’t look. There are too many enemies in front of him. He knows better now than to act rashly, but that doesn’t stop the absolute fury fueling his might.

Caspar hacks ruthlessly through soldier after soldier. His axe meets blade and flesh alike. He’s forced into hand-to-hand combat at some point.

With the help of Ingrid, the area in front of him thins eventually. The woman swoops down on her pegasus low enough for him to hear her.

“I’m going to move forward like we originally planned, but I think you should stay with the second group in the back. Enemy reinforcements came and pushed them in.”

Caspar makes some sort of agreement and then Ingrid is gone. _Enemy reinforcements?_ He didn’t think they had enough _bodies_ for reinforcements.

Ashe’s face flashes in his mind suddenly. He starts immediately for the backline.

The army had been split into two groups. The first would barrel through the enemy ranks like wildfire; Caspar was originally in this group. Their objective was to seek out the commander as fast as possible in hopes of destroying their enemy’s organization.

Then the second group would follow at a slower pace, cleaning up the stragglers and preventing any from chasing. Ashe was part of this group.

Caspar spots Sylvain first mounted atop his steed. He’s fending off another group of cavaliers, Annette providing fire from behind. Caspar’s pace quickens when he finally spots Ashe several paces behind them.

Ashe’s bow is gone and he instead wields his sword against two enemy soldiers. Mercedes is sandwiched between Ashe and the other two, and Caspar can tell she’s almost at the limit of her healing capabilities. Closer now, he can tell that Ashe is struggling just as much.

Blood cakes a messy trail down the side of his face. His stance is wide and he’s slightly bent over, a hand pressed tight to his stomach. The fabric under his fingers is deep red, almost black. It must be the wound he sustained earlier. Ashe is gasping for breath, for his _life_.

Something deep in Caspar seizes.

He needs to be strategic about his approach; he can’t just run straight in or they’ll be frantic to finish Ashe and the others. Caspar starts running towards a patch of forest that stretches far enough to get him behind the enemy. He’s almost at the treeline and then-

One of the cavaliers broke past Sylvain and Annette, nearly trampling Mercedes, and drove their lance through Ashe’s center. He gasps silently and falls to his knees.

Caspar’s vision goes red.

-

Everything hurts. His muscles, his head, his very skin throbs with the pain of surviving something incredible.

Caspar’s eyes crack open. He’s lying in one of the infirmary beds, a thin blanket tucked up to his chin. He tries to sit up but the effort forces a sharp gasp out of him, pain lancing through every inch of his body.

“Caspar? Are you awake?”

Caspar turns his head, and in the bed next to him is Ashe. He’s leaning against the headboard with a book in his hands, but he starts to move once he’s sees Caspar is conscious. A bandage wraps around Ashe’s head, crossing right above his right eye.

The battle comes back to Caspar in a rush.

“How are you f-”

“Y-You’re alive! Ashe, you’re alive, oh, thank god,” Caspar breathes out all at once.

“Thankfully,” Ashe says quietly, a small smile gracing his lips. “It wa- Caspar? Caspar, are you crying?”

Crying? Him? He doesn’t believe it but he is. Hot tears well up in his eyes and spill over, leaving salty tracks he doesn’t even have the strength to wipe away. A choked sob leaves him and it rattles his bones.

Ashe’s eyes go wide in shock and he’s suddenly at Caspar’s side, calloused hands wiping the wetness away.

“Hey, I’m right here.” Ashe cups his face gently in his hands, a balm to his aching.

Caspar is feeling a torrent of emotions he’s not used to. He has of course felt the tragedy and loss war leaves in its wake, and mourned the destruction of his own people. But every death and every obstacle they encounter Caspar is invigorated to do more, to fight harder, survive longer to win the good man’s fight.

When he saw Ashe, already broken and still fighting, gasp for what seemed like his last breath, shocked by the intrusion through his body, Caspar could not imagine another battle. There was no future when he imagined Ashe’s death. It was blind.

“I thought I lost you,” Caspar gasps, and he reaches to squeeze Ashe’s hands. “I-I saw you go down- I didn’t make it in time- I could’ve-”

“Caspar, stop.” His voice is shaky. “You did enough.”

“What happened…?”

Ashe recounts his own memories of the fight, gaps filled in by Mercedes. Unexpected enemy reinforcements pushed their group forward sooner than they planned and they ended up surrounded. They thought they could handle it, but they were clearly outnumbered. He had been cleaved down the center with an axe - the injury Caspar heard him receive - and Mercedes expended a majority of her healing power on keeping Ashe alive after that.

It was slow, but they managed to slice and blast through until the very end, where Caspar had seen them cornered. When Ashe went down for the final time, he saw Caspar appear out of nowhere. He was a flurry of metal and sheer violence. Through lances jabbing at him, magic fire enveloping him whole, and swords finding the slots between his armor, Caspar barreled on.

Caspar single-handedly wiped out the entire remainder of the enemies.

“And at the cost of your own health,” Ashe finished. He sits on the edge of Caspar’s bed with his hands now clasped in his lap. His gaze is heavy on Caspar, like he’s about to cry. “You can’t just _do_ that.”

“What wasn’t I supposed to do? I wasn’t just going to watch you guys get massacred!” Caspar doesn’t mean to raise his voice and feels guilty when Ashe flinches.

“Caspar, you nearly killed yourself. I know you’re reckless and we’re all desperate to win, but you can’t just go on a rampage! You’re not sixteen anymore, I know you know better!” Ashe’s hands fist the patient’s gown he wears. Caspar realizes suddenly that Ashe is _angry_ at him, and something bitter rises up in him.

“Are you kidding me? I thought you were _dead_! What does it matter if I die trying to avenge you?”

Ashe recoils in horror. “ _Everything_! It means everything! There are other lives besides mine that you can save!”

“Do you even know what I _felt_ when I saw you?” Caspar feels insane, his head is throbbing harder than before.

“Yes! That’s what it feels like every time I watch you run off into battle, Caspar.” Ashe’s voice is low and shaky, a hint of desperation hidden beneath. “ _Every_ time, for the past five, six years I have had to watch you recklessly fight with abandon. And _every_ time I’m afraid you will fall and I won’t be there to save you.”

Ashe’s breath comes shallow and quick. Caspar can’t look away from his eyes, the immense pain and sadness dwelling within.

“Caspar, I have watched you die a thousand times,” he whispered. “Don’t you dare tell me I wouldn’t know what it feels like.”

Ashe’s gaze lingers on him and it burns him like molten lava. Then, he stands from the bed and leaves the infirmary.

Caspar shuts his eyes tight, willing away the sting of tears once more. It doesn’t help the fact that his chest is heavy with the weight of a thousand deaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ashe's lance wound didn't hit anything serious, and the axe wound had been mostly healed by mercedes. compared to caspar who received no healing during the whole thing and took everything straight, he wasn't as injured as it may have seemed to caspar haha. also, caspar was out for like two days straight.
> 
> is ashe more likely to be angry before feeling grateful? i'm not sure, but it's an interesting idea.
> 
> originally they were supposed to comfort each other in the end but i left it as is because they've been too soft and sweet in every chapter lmao
> 
> catch me on twitter [@softresetter](https://twitter.com/softresetter)


	6. soggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day six: thunder, rain/ ~~cuddles~~**
> 
> Caspar isn't a big fan of the rain, but Ashe decides that just won't do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to say that this had zero direction, this is straight word vomit

Caspar stares forlornly at the deluge coming down on the monastery. The rain is so heavy he can’t see much past the beginning of the bridge. It disgusts him.

“Ashe, we are _not_ going back in this.” Caspar is firm in his words when he retreats from the doorway. The winds had sprayed Caspar in a thin, but cold layer of water. He crosses his arms petulantly.

“What? We can’t stay here.” Ashe looks up from the cat curled up in his lap, two kittens tucked into its belly. The monks found a mother cat making a home underneath the pews and Ashe offered to relocate the family somewhere safer. Caspar tagged along to help out, but with the sudden storm Ashe decided it would have to wait for another day.

“Then we should’ve gone back earlier! It’s raining _way_ too hard now.”

“It’s just rain, we’ll just have to make a run f-”

“No!”

Ashe blinks. “But w-”

“Nope.”

“The rain’s-”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Caspar.” Ashe stares pointedly at him. He stares back, his mouth in a definitive frown.

“I absolutely refuse to go out into the rain. I’ll stay here the whole night if I have to!”

Ashe sighs and pats the spot on the pew beside him. With a small grumble Caspar drops his weight into the seat. The cats suddenly come to life from the sudden motion and leap from Ashe’s lap, disappearing beneath another pew where their nest is.

“We both know you won’t do that; you’re going to get hungry,” Ashe points out. “Will you at least tell me why you don’t like the rain?”

“It’s _wet_ and _cold_ and just- ugh! Do you like having soggy socks? Because I don’t!” Caspar waves his hands dramatically to illustrate.

“Well-”

“It should be worse for you! You wear _thigh highs-_ ” Caspar lifts one of Ashe’s legs.

Ashe chokes and yanks his leg back. “Th-they’re not thigh highs!”

“-so your entire legs will be soggy! Soggy legs!”

Caspar leans back with his arms crossed tightly, feeling he’s made a very important point.

“Okay then,” Ashe starts slowly, “I’ll just go back myself.”

He stands and flips his hoodie up, heading for the exit. Before he can get very far Caspar shoots out a hand to grip Ashe’s arm and tugs him back. He stumbles back with a yelp, but Caspar steadies him.

“Wait! You’re just going to _leave_ me here? I am _so_ offended.”

“Caspar, I’m not going to stay here just because you won’t go out in the rain! It might not even stop by tonight,” Ashe reasons.

Caspar sputters. “Well- You can just- Can’t I- Gah!” He ruffles his hair with both hands in frustration.

“Come on, if we run really fast you won’t even feel it!”

Ashe offers him his hand with a smile. Caspar doesn’t like where this is going.

-

Oh, he definitely felt it.

Their mad dash for the dormitories was a comical sight; hand in hand, Caspar nearly dragging Ashe in his haste, shouting at the top of his lungs. They stumble into Caspar’s room, gasping for air. Ashe tumbles straight to the floor and rolls into a starfish position.

“Wow. That was a much longer run than I thought it’d be,” Ashe manages between pants.

Caspar is too busy stripping his wet clothes off to answer. When Ashe finally notices he yelps and immediately rolls onto his side to face the other way.

“Y-you can’t just start stripping out of nowhere!”

“I can and I will,” Caspar says. Does he feel sorry? He’s not really sure, but all he knows is that he’s freezing and wet. In a matter of seconds he dried himself off and changed into clean clothes. “There! That’s _much_ better.”

Ashe finally sits back up to look at him, face strangely red. Must be the cold.

“Oh! Here.” Caspar tosses him another towel and then hums. “You can’t stay wet! You’ll get a cold.”

Caspar busies himself with compiling his wet garments into a soggy pile by the door. He hopes it doesn’t start to smell. “I guess this beats being stuck in the cathedral for a few days,” he thinks aloud.

“Um, Caspar?”

“Yeah?”

“Could I possibly, uh, borrow some of your clothes?” Caspar blinks at that.

“Oh. O-oh, yeah, hang on-” Caspar moves to his drawer to pick out a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt. He hands them to Ashe and after a pause, decides to hand him a pair of socks.

“Th-thanks,” Ashe mumbles. “Um, could you…”

“Huh? Oh- yeah! I’ll just uh- I’ll just be over here,” Caspar stutters, and crawls onto his bed, facing the wall, to give Ashe some privacy. He’s finally starting to realize the situation as his brain warms up. Ashe wearing _his_ clothes.

He knocks his forehead into the wall at the imagery, at the sight that will be revealed to him in moments.

“A-are you okay?” Ashe calls.

“Yes! I’m good, just dandy,” Caspar replies quickly, leaving his head there. His face burns in embarrassment.

“Okay, I’m good,” Ashe says eventually and Caspar peeks.

He’s not even sure why he’s flustered at the whole thing. They’re the same size, so the clothes feet almost as if they were his own. They aren’t even anything special - heck, all students have some bland version of it beneath their uniform - but Caspar isn’t _used_ to seeing Ashe so casual.

Ashe shifts nervously beneath his gaze and Caspar snaps out of it.

“Good! You look good! I-I mean you look normal! Yeah…” Caspar scratches his head awkwardly.

It gets a small laugh out of Ashe and Caspar relaxes. He pats the bed in mimicry of earlier and Ashe comes easily.

“It’s a good thing we’re the same size,” Ashe comments.

“Yeah? Well in a few years I’ll be way bigger, so there’s no way they’ll fit then.” Suddenly the image of Ashe, an older Ashe, wearing Caspar’s baggy clothes flashes in his mind. It would be _cute_ , Caspar thinks and his face goes aflame.

“Y-you’ll think we’ll still be seeing each other in the future?” Ashe’s voice is small and when Caspar looks over the look of wonder in his eyes is a shock.

“What? Of course! Well, I mean, I sure hope so what with you being from the Kingdom, and me from the Empire. But I think anything is possible! We’re both trying to be great knights, so who knows where that’ll lead us?” Caspar’s confession is wholeheartedly true to him; it never crossed his mind that Ashe had doubts about their future together.

“I guess I should learn to be more optimistic like you are, Caspar,” Ashe says with a laugh. “I think you’re right about anything happening.”

“Of course I am!”

They talk over the roaring rain and thunder, lost in their plans and dreams for their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are they really thigh highs or are they leggings? why doesn't caspar like rain? like is there a support that explains that tidbit- why didn't ashe just go back to his room? aren't they just going to get wet again when they have to eat dinner?
> 
> i don't know :/
> 
> aside from that, i want to say thank you for the support on these chapters!! it's been pretty fun and seeing other people enjoy it too is very heartwarming. things are coming to a close soon, but i'm glad i participated and got to see everyone else's content too!
> 
> and as usual, catch me on twitter [@softresetter](https://twitter.com/softresetter)


	7. frosh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day seven: free day**
> 
> Ashe’s childhood friend, Cyril, makes an appearance and Caspar isn’t sure what to make of it. It’s a good thing he’s in the boxing club to punch out his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka college sports club au except i chose sports i know nothing about and thus leave them out of the story for the most part

“So like- who's the _guy_?”

Caspar tried to coerce every good-guy bone, muscle, and membrane in his body to will the sheer bitterness out of this accusatory question - a question of accusation he absolutely has no right to be asking like this, but he tried - as if he was made of anything but. But alas, his body has no intention of ever consulting his brain.

So Ashe looks at him strangely and Caspar quite literally wants to die.

“I'm sorry?” He puts down his fork still speared through a piece of grilled chicken. They were out for lunch at a little cafe on Caspar’s side of campus, basking in the sun per Ashe’s request, because Caspar wanted to take him out for a date before their clubs began. Well, Ashe didn't know it was a date, but then again Ashe also didn't know he _wanted_ it to be a date.

Caspar doesn't know what compelled him to bring up Ashe’s new little friend at such an occasion. “Th-the guy! The one you're always hanging out with lately. Curly brown hair? Kinda looks like he's got a stick up his a-”

“Oh, Cyril!” And Ashe’s face lights up in a way that clearly overshadows the tone Caspar had taken with him. That unsettles the pastrami sandwich sitting in his stomach.

“Yeah, sure. That guy. Uh, who is he again?”

“He's my best friend from high school,” Ashe explained. “Kind of like Linhardt? But we kind of fell out after I graduated being busy with school and all. He transferred here from community college.”

Kind of like Linhardt. Well, that was reassuring except for the fact that Caspar’s pretty sure Ashe doesn’t have a reason to be threatened by Linhardt, as un-relationship-threatening as he is, like Caspar does to Cyril. It was even less reassuring that Ashe just confirmed the guy’s much closer to him than he is. He _ah_ ’s conversationally anyway.

“Gotcha, gotcha,” Caspar mumbles. He absolutely does not stab his toothpick through his remaining pickle wedge.

“You should meet him!” Ashe looks like he came upon the greatest idea ever.

“ _Hell n-_ yeah! That sounds… great,” Caspar fumbles gracelessly.

“Nyeah?”

“Nyeah…”

-

As Caspar drives back towards the sports center, Ashe sitting comfortably in the passenger seat, he figures it was bound to happen. It’s pretty often that he drives Ashe to club; their sports start around the same time and Caspar is always eager to drive Ashe instead of leaving him to bike it. Even better, he gets to drive Ashe back home, and that’s a bit of a boyfriendish thing to do, right? The only reason he knew of Cyril is because the little twerp has been keeping Ashe late, thus delaying Caspar’s typically timely fantasy.

“Do you think we would get along?” Caspar eventually asks at a stoplight.

Ashe hums first. “I think you guys are definitely similar in a few ways, so I can’t imagine you wouldn’t get along _eventually_. Not to force you into being best friends with him or anything!” Out of the corner of his eye, Caspar sees him blush. “But you’re one of my closest friends too. It’d be nice if you guys got along.”

That touched Caspar in a way that had him holding back an incredible grin. The drive is short, so they’re quickly parking and lugging their duffels into the sports center. They raced each other up the stairs to the second floor where both the archery range and the gym were located.

“I totally won!” Caspar pants, lifting his fists in victory.

“It was a tie!” Ashe shakes his head with a laugh. He digs a finger into Caspar’s side with a devious grin and rejoices when he squeaks with shrill offense.

“I am _sensitive_ ,” Caspar gasps with dramatic flair, clutching his injured rib.

“You are a _sore-loser_.” Ashe starts walking ahead and Caspar trots to keep up.

“Can’t be a sore-loser if we tied,” he sings. The eye-roll Caspar receives is note-worthy, but he takes it as a sign of Ashe’s enjoyment. Whenever they fool around so comfortably Caspar can’t help the warm and glowy feeling that blooms inside.

He’s forgotten all about Cyril until he spots him leaning against the wall near the archery range. Caspar lags behind with a pout, all joy dissipated, as Ashe quickens to meet him.

“Cyril! Did they already start?” Ashe greets him with a short hug. Caspar frowns at that. _He_ didn’t get any hello or goodbye hugs from Ashe, and he was supposed to be on the same level as Cyril!

“Nope.” Cyril pops the _p_. “I was just waiting for you.” They talk about something he doesn’t understand, and then he’s turning to Caspar. “Who are you?”

Now, facing him fully and not from hidden in the stairwell as he peeks out to eavesdrop on their conversations, Caspar begrudgingly realizes he’s handsome. Cyril’s face isn’t necessarily inviting but he still has a young, boyish charm and a depth to his eyes that hints at maturity; the contrast is striking, begging to draw people’s attention. Messy dark curls sit atop his head and that’s when Caspar realizes he can see the top of his head. _Aha_ , Caspar thinks proudly, as if he had never been that short - or shorter - in his life.

“The name’s Caspar,” he introduces, neutral but strange for his typical boisterousness.

“He’s the one I’ve been telling you about,” Ashe adds and Caspar’s gaze snap to him because _he talks about me?_ “We had an English class together, and now he drives me around. He’s been a great friend.”

Caspar wants to question him about that first bit, but Cyril’s intense gaze on him is unsettling in ways he didn’t anticipate. But Caspar stares back until Cyril finally speaks, “Well, I’m glad Ashe made a good friend. Thanks for taking care of him.”

And he says it like Caspar had been doing Cyril a favor, that Caspar had been merely filling in his spot temporarily until Cyril came back to whisk him away forever; and now, it was time for Caspar to give him up. Caspar bristles, fists clenched tight, but what is he supposed to say? I would gladly take care of him for the rest of my life?

Instead, with forced enthusiasm, he says, “I-I’m plenty happy to take care of him! That’s what friends are for.”

Cyril seems to accept that answer and nods. “Agreed. Ashe taught me that.” Ashe tilts his head, catches Cyril’s eye, and they share a small, secret smile, undoubtedly remembering some distant time, that Caspar feels he’s intruding on. What a loaded thing to say, what a loaded moment for Caspar to witness. He wants to crawl out of his skin and pull Ashe in.

“Caspar?” He’s startled out of his thoughts when Ashe’s hand brushed against his, knuckles white. When Caspar releases his fists there are deep nail imprints and Cyril is staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you alright?” It’s the tone Ashe uses when Caspar’s about to start a fight and Caspar has to actively force the scowl off his face.

Caspar can only stand their intense staring for another beat before he’s shouting, “I-I have practice!” and then bolting for the gym.

He stumbles into the air-conditioned room and immediately heads for the locker room in the back, ignoring the calls from the other club members. It’s empty, thankfully, so he tosses his duffel bag carelessly against the wall of lockers, a harsh _bang!_ echoing in the tiny room, and throws himself onto the single bench. Caspar bends forward and holds his head between his hands.

The aggravation and embarrassment eats at him and he bounces his knee to keep it from devouring him. Cyril hadn’t even done anything that warrants his anger, Caspar _knows_ that, but seeing him and Ashe together ignites something in him. The look of concern on Ashe’s face flashes in his mind and he groans. _He must think I’m an idiot!_

“Caspar, is that you?” He looks up feebly from his hands and finds Hilda peering through the doorway. Her face melts when she meets Caspar’s gaze. “Oh, honey, let’s get you a punching bag. I’ll tell coach.”

-

“So, like, you’re jealous of this guy?” Hilda holds the bag in place as Caspar pummels the stiff material. She doesn’t even budge despite the raw power Caspar puts into it.

“No! Well, yeah, but not really? I just-” Caspar pauses his barrage. “feel like I’m suddenly a world apart from Ashe, like I don’t even know him. We already spend a lot of time together and I know we’re pretty close, but this Cyril guy makes me feel like a stranger. There’s probably tons of stuff about Ashe that he knows and they totally have some kind of deep history!”

Hilda hums in understanding, nodding her head. “Oh, I see now.”

“What do you see? And how do I stop feeling like this!”

“Well, I don’t think you’re necessarily jealous of Cyril,” she starts. “I think you started to lose your confidence in your relationship with Ashe.”

Caspar frowns. “I don’t get it.”

Hilda sighs and then pats the punching bag. “Keep punching.” He raises an eyebrow but starts up again anyway. The beat of his fists against the bag has dissipated most of his earlier anguish, the simple and real pleasure of working up a sweat replacing it. Caspar always felt better after a good work out.

“You like him right?” The side of Caspar’s fist slides against the surface and the momentum sends Caspar face first into the bag. “Caspar!”

“Y-you can’t just _say_ that!” He whines, clutching his face.

“Am I wrong?”

“No, but you can’t tell him!”

“I would never,” Hilda gasps. “Look, for the past two years you’ve been trying to get closer to Ashe, and now you’ve become really good friends with him. Which is great! But now with Cyril back in the picture, you feel like all your hard work just went to waste. Add on top of that your big fat crush, and you’re now double in the dumps!”

He takes it in. “Uh-huh,” Caspar draws out, starting up a rhythm again. “Are you sure you’re not just making fun of me?”

“Geez, for someone so stupidly honest about everything you don’t even know what you’re being honest about,” Hilda digresses.

“Because I’ve never felt like this before!”

“Okay, I’ll put it this way. You train super hard for a match, like super hard.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you get reaaally good. You’ve got great odds, you even _counter_ the guy. But then you hear some _other_ guy has already beat the guy you’re about to beat up! Does that mean your training was for nothing?”

“Of course not!” Caspar has definitely been put in that situation before.

“Exactly,” Hilda says with a bright smile. “Caspar, Ashe is bound to have friends from the past the same way opponents have already been beaten by others. Your time and experience in the ring isn’t any less important and monumental than your opponents’.”

Caspar hums, voice softer now. “I-I think I get it now. I guess I just got… scared. Ashe looks so happy to be with him, and I know he has other friends too, but I just wondered if Ashe ever looked like that when we were together.”

“Oh, Caspar,” Hilda sighs, coming around to pat him on the shoulder. “You’d be surprised.”

-

Caspar waits outside the archery range with his back against the window, lost in thought. The heavy door finally opens and when he looks up both Cyril and Ashe have emerged. Caspar catches Ashe’s eye.

“I’ll see you next week, Ashe,” Cyril says. He waves goodbye, looks at Caspar, and then heads for the stairs. Caspar wonders if Ashe said something about him and he swallows hard.

“Hey.” Ashe comes to stand in front of him.

“Um, hi.” There’s a beat of silence before they’re speaking at the same time.

“I just want-”

“Are you okay-”

“Shit, sorry you go ahead-”

“You can go first-”

They pause and stare at each other before bursting into laughter. Watching Ashe’s face crinkle with amusement and hearing him laugh so freely makes Caspar wonder why he ever felt troubled by their relationship. When their laughter subsides, Caspar speaks up first, “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I was being kinda rude about Cyril and I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Ashe’s face smooths into a soft smile. “It’s alright, you didn’t do anything wrong; I was just worried. What’s going on though? Usually you’re so upfront about… well, everything.” He sounds unsure of himself, eyes everywhere but Caspar, thumb tracing the seams on the strap of his duffel. Caspar sucks in a breath.

“I-I know, I just didn’t know how to bring this up without sounding like a complete asshole, but I guess I’m an asshole either way,” he says with a breathless laugh.

“You’re not an asshole, Caspar,” Ashe scolds gently and Caspar smiles sheepishly.

“I guess I was just feeling insecure about our friendship when Cyril showed up. I-I wanted to be closer to you whenever I saw you guys together, and I just completely forgot that we’re actually pretty good friends ourselves.”

Ashe blinks and then he’s laughing again. “Geez, I didn’t think our friendship that trivial that you could just forget about it!”

Caspar fumbles for words. “It’s not trivial! I’ve just got a lot of feelings about you- shit- about _us! Us!_ ” He tries to correct himself but Ashe has already heard, a slight flush creeping up his face.

“Y-you have feelings for me?”

“No! I mean yes! But you’re not supposed to know!” Caspar wails pathetically. God, this was _not_ how this was supposed to go.

Ashe frowns at that. “Why not?”

“Because I like the way we are now! I like driving you to club and taking you out for lunch and making you laugh! Even if I’m pretending sometimes that we’re dating, it doesn’t matter because I’m always having fun with you,” he confesses, running a hand through his hair messily. “I-I don’t want to ruin that, but I guess I’ve gone and done it already.” Caspar feels a pit open up inside him and fear comes crawling out. For the past two years, he’s had no intention of confessing to Ashe despite the growing, blossoming feelings for him that their close friendship has cultivated. Ashe is a year ahead and their meeting was already slim; how could he chance this precious relationship because of his dumb feelings? Feelings Caspar has doubted Ashe would ever return.

Several seconds, or even minutes, have passed in silence and when Caspar finally risks a look at Ashe he’s stunned. Ashe’s face burns a brilliant shade of red, accentuating the green of his eyes, and he has both hands wrapped tight around the strap of his bag. He won’t make eye contact with him but his lip trembles like words are threatening to spill out. Caspar has never seen Ashe so flustered.

“A-Ashe?” He calls gently. Ashe’s head shoots up, eyes locking onto Caspar’s own, before turning his head quickly.

“Y-you can’t just say th-those things!” Ashe yells.

Caspar sputters, “Wh-what?! Why not! They’re my feelings!”

“Because they’re my feelings too!”

“Huh?! You can’t say that either!”

“But it’s true!”

They stare at each other now, red-faced and panting from yelling needlessly. Caspar doesn’t even know where to place his thoughts, but they’re laughing again, out of breath.

“Caspar, you idiot,” Ashe says and it’s both exasperated and fond. “All the time we’ve spent together I wouldn’t have wanted to spend with anybody else. I always agreed to hanging out with you for a reason.”

His heart thuds thunderously in his chest. “You mean… you like me back?”

“Y-yeah,” Ashe confirms softly. “I do.”

Caspar stares at him, dumbstruck. Ashe? He’s had feelings for him? “A-are we dating now?” He blurts out and immediately curses. “I-I mean, like, do you? Do you want to be my… my, uh, my-”

“Your boyfriend?” Ashe supplies with a little quirk to his lips.

Caspar nods and mumbles, “Yeah, that.”

All of a sudden Ashe is crowding his space, mere centimeters from his own face, and filling his vision with freckles and soft green eyes.

“I would love that,” Ashe whispers and then pressed their lips together. It was short and sweet, but Caspar’s skin was alight with sparks and his blood is loud in his veins. When Ashe pulls away, he’s graced with a small embarrassed smile. “Take me home now?”

Caspar grins and bumps their foreheads together. “Of course.”

And on the drive back to Ashe’s dorm, Caspar realizes he won’t have to go on pretend-dates any more or be boyfriend _ish._ He fully plans on being a boyfriend and announcing with great joy that they’ll be going on plenty of real dates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like both ashe and caspar are largely independent of each other in a relationship, so any jealousy that comes up isn't like about monopolization but rather the strength of their relationship. also! part of this was supposed to be a scene in a 5+1 things idea i had, so this honestly might show up way in the future lmao
> 
> and with that, i have finally finished cashepar week! it was super fun and i enjoyed getting back into writing again. i think the most fun was interpreting their relationship in different ways and looking at different parts of their personalities; they're so similar i think and yet they have such different ways of executing their feelings
> 
> i did decide to expand on the boba au from day four, so expect that to start up sometime late december to early january?
> 
> thank you guys for reading and leaving comments and kudos, i'm happy i was able to spread some cashepar cheer!! if you ever want to chat or leave a message catch me on twitter [@softresetter](https://twitter.com/softresetter)!


End file.
